


Crowns of Laurel and Hearts of Gold

by lunar_peach



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 70's AU, ?? maybe so, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Use Mentions, Fluff and Angst, Love at First Sight, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, but mostly - Freeform, its the 70's what do you expect? there's gonna be weed, musicians au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunar_peach/pseuds/lunar_peach
Summary: He took a drag of his cigarette and let a knowing smile form on his face. He removed his sunglasses from his face and dragged them up onto his head to hold his hair back. It was longer now, long enough to be tied back and braided, something he wished he had done. He took a deep breath and propped his guitar back onto his back, picking up his suitcase afterward.The suitcase held his very essence and existence now._______________Yuri!!! On Ice 70's musicians au!





	1. andante

It was midsummer, July 23rd, 1973. Yuuri Katsuki put down his guitar case gently next to his luggage, looking over the rolling hills of Laurel Canyon. The scent of honeysuckle and dry wood surround the area, filling his lungs like the smoke from the cigarette between his middle and index fingers. He held it tenderly, being one of the last in his carton of Marlboros. Cicadas buzzed around him, hidden under the brush of the terrain and creating a symphony for the wildflowers to dance to. The wind swayed them back and forth as if directing their ballet. The sun was beginning to set. It filled the sky with a bright orange and pink mix of hues, turning the canyon into something out of a magazine or fantasy book. Below him, the incessant honking of Los Angeles became distorted by both distance and a peculiar disassociation that came with arriving at the canyon. The bus that had driven him up was long gone. The chatter of the driver quickly fading from Yuuri’s memory. He dusted his bell-bottom jeans off and ran a finger around the front of the collar of his shirt. It had been bothering him the entire trip, but it was the last clean thing he had on him. Not that anyone would mind if he wore something dirty. He had seen folks walking around barefoot and shirtless, with only sweat adorning their backs.

No, they wouldn’t mind. It was just Yuuri’s personal preference. 

Further down the road he could see a number of houses, quite large in size but quaint in style. They were many different colors with large open windows and wide yards speckled with dandelions and other stray flowers. Stray dogs roamed freely around the neighborhood, hounding for scraps when they came across a person. A German shepherd made his way to Yuuri and nudged his legs with the tip of his nose. Yuuri didn’t jump back or flinch. He knew enough about dogs to tell which were dangerous and which weren’t. Yuuri dug into his pocket and fed the dog a part of his sandwich, the one he had been eating on the bus ride up. The dog ate it graciously before going on his way, leaving Yuuri with a longing for companionship. It had been so long since he had made any meaningful contact with another living thing, he was starved for conversation. The last person he’d spoken to was Phichit, and that was only to ask for directions to his hotel.

Except it wasn’t quite a hotel. It was his home, which he occasionally rented rooms out to strangers that were just passing by, like Yuuri, who didn’t plan to stay longer than a week or so. 

The harmonic sound of guitars and singing silver voices becoming one waded down the road like they were meant to be heard by him. He took a drag of his cigarette and let a knowing smile form on his face. Yuuri removed his sunglasses from his face and dragged them up onto his head to hold his hair back. It was longer now, long enough to be tied back and braided, something he wished he had done. He took a deep breath and propped his guitar back on his back, picking up his sole suitcase afterward. 

The suitcase held his very essence and existence now. Everything Yuuri cared to own was tightly packed inside with room to spare. But Yuuri didn’t need more. He had time and his legs to carry him and keep him safe. The suitcase only contained three pairs of pants, five shirts, and two pairs of shoes. A toothbrush and comb had also made the cut when Yuuri had been rapidly packing in his small apartment in Baltimore. He hadn’t had any time to think things through, or even contact any of his loved ones. He had simply picked up and left. No note. No explanation. He had left an empty apartment for his family to find and left for Laurel Canyon with self-discovery and nirvana on his mind. He knew there was something more to life and hoped that it was there, among the trees, dirt, and ridges. Now he was standing in the middle of it, dazed and excited by what it would bring him in the time he’d be a patron to its hillside. Just as Celestino had told him, the ambiance of the canyon made him want to explore every inch of the place, inspecting each rock and patch of grass closely just to see how the world interacted with their existence. It was mesmerizing and intoxicating for him to think of the possibilities the next couple of months would bring him. 

Laurel Canyon was just the first of many stops like it.

San Francisco would follow. Then maybe Seattle.

Yuuri turned east and began to make his way uphill. Phichit’s house wasn’t too far from where he was. Even if it was, he wouldn’t have minded the walk. Idle things like that held a new type of beauty. He kept his eyes open to everything and everyone, hungry to experience everything his life had to offer him. The music behind him got louder and he hummed along as he walked on the side of the road. He smoked his cigarette lazily, inhaling the smoke for a good while before letting it out through a small opening in his lips. He passed a group of giggling women in short skirts and dresses with long hair decorated with feathers. Whispering among themselves, they waved to him and scampered off as they passed him. He simply gave them a nod of the head and kept moving forward. He walked for a few more minutes, taking in the scenery which made him wish he hadn’t sold his camera for petty cash. A yellow Volkswagen beetle drove up from behind and slowed down as it came close to him. A man with bright blue eyes and a playful smirk leaned his head out of the car window, careful to keep the car at Yuuri’s walking speed. “Need a ride?” he asked him. Yuuri looked down at him for some time before nodding yes. He made his way towards the car once the man motioned him over. Throwing his things into the back seat of the vehicle, Yuuri dropped himself into the passenger seat, introduced himself, and thanked him. “It’s no problem. My name's Victor. Where to?” 

Yuuri told him the address. 

“You’re on your way to Phichit’s? That's great, he’s my neighbor.” He ran a hand through his platinum locks and nodded towards up ahead. “I live a couple of houses down from him.” 

Yuuri nodded along and folded his hands in his lap. He could feel Victor's eyes switching between him and the road. Yuuri wasn't very talkative, and he got the feeling Victor was. Still, he didn’t seem to mind the silence. He didn't challenge Yuuri's answers-- a simple nod of the head, or hum of pursed lips. The car went silent when Victor stopped talking, nothing but the low sound of cicadas chirping in between grass willows could be heard. Victor tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and whistled a bit before he asked, “So, you’re a musician, huh?” Yuuri, once again, nodded. Victor smiled like he expected him to do just that. “Me too. The music scene here is amazing. Written a lot of good songs during my stay.” More silence followed. “The guitar must get you a lot of tail. I play the piano myself.” Yuuri pressed his lips tightly together, as Victor kept talking about all of the women who turned into groupies when he played shows. He writhed in his seat, unsure of why a stranger was telling him his life story. “Then again, women aren’t my thing. Anymore, anyway.” 

_“There it is,”_ Yuuri thought. It was becoming easier and easier to find people like him. He flashed Victor a knowing smile, feeling slightly more comfortable in his company. Victor smiled back, biting his lip to the point of turning his bottom lip red. Yuuri felt his heart speed up. “Yeah, I know the feeling. Women aren’t my thing either.” Yuuri’s voice was honey. Their next moment of silence was less awkward than the ones that came before. The wheels in the heads were turning, trying to decide what they would do with the newly acquired information. 

“So, other than the music, what brings you to Laurel Canyon?” Victor asked, the smirk he had worn now vanishing into a nonchalant slant of the mouth. “Lookout Mountain, of all places?”

“The scenery. The freedom. The hills,” Yuuri elaborated. He sighed and turned to look out the window to the rolling lively hills of the canyon. “I don’t really know. Truly...I’m just passing by.” 

“That’s what they all say,” Victor uttered. “As a matter of fact, that’s what I said and I’ve been here for two years now.” He chuckled and turned onto a patchy dirt road. The houses on the street were thirty or so feet apart, but all painted different variations of prismatic colors. Yuuri was mesmerized by the sight. Everything was so lively and rustic, but the neighborhood still held a certain poshness within itself. This was where rich and famous musicians came to congregate, after all. 

“I don’t think that’ll be the case for me. I’ve got a couple of months of travel planned out, so I need to stay on schedule.” His voice was breathy and hesitant, shifting the mood from lighthearted to one more doomed. He cleared his throat and clapped his hands together. “So! Are you and Phichit close?” 

“Eh…” Victor waned, tilting his head from side to side as if debating what Yuuri means by ‘close’. He finally settles on an answer and Yuuri that he’s written with him a bit. “We write every couple of weeks, and we smoke together sometimes too, but we don’t hang out much other than that.” 

“Smoke?” Yuuri inquired. “You hang out to smoke cigarettes?" Victor looked at him perplexed and then broke out into a fit of laughter. 

“No, no.” He keeps his laughter under control and turns into another street. “We--" He took another look at Yuuri's face, still smiling. "Nevermind, we just hang out from time to time, is all." 

Yuuri’s turned a deep shade of red finally understanding what he was trying to explain, as Victor stumbled to stop his fit of giggles. Victor apologized abundantly for laughing as the continued on down the road. “Where are you from anyway? You seem pretty out of place, even when I saw you walking back there.” Victor cleared his throat and tried to change the subject both for Yuuri’s sake and that of his lungs. 

“I’m not from anywhere, really,” was all he told him. Nothing more and nothing less. The answer, as ambiguous as it was, didn’t make Victor’s any more curious than he already was. “Been all over the place all my life.” 

“I know what you mean,” Victor said. “It was hard for me to stay in one place too. Always looking for the next adventure.” 

Yuuri couldn’t relate to that attestment. He had lived in Baltimore for a good five years before leaving and had lived with his parents all across the country for long periods of time as well. He was stagnant for most of his life. It was only recently that he found himself stumbling from city to city, thirsty to explore and experience. 

“I guess so,” Yuuri spoke softly. Technically, it was what he was traveling to do. 

The sun coated the dirt road and spread itself over everything it could reach. Yuuri pulled his sunglasses down from his head and placed them over his eyes. In a matter of minutes, they pulled into Phichit’s driveway, where a black 1967 Pontiac rested. Yuuri smiled at Victor and opened his door, getting his things out of the car as quickly as he could, unable to wait to go and see Phichit. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Yuuri told him, voice chipper. “I’ll see you ‘round?” 

Victor nodded and waved goodbye once Yuuri shut the door. Behind him, the front door of the home swung open, to reveal a barely dressed Phichit running down the stairs towards him, silk bathrobe billowing in the wind behind him. A smile, a mile wide, spread through both their faces as they met halfway and embraced one another. 

“Yuuri! Oh, I’m so glad you made it!” 

For the moment, under the hot and heavy climate of the summer, he was home.


	2. pretense and sunsets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He drove home humming along to the songs on the radio, thinking of the past and present. How much his life had changed in just days. Never in a million years did he picture himself in a place like Laurel Canyon. The twists and turns of life never ceased to surprise him._

For a very short and angry moment, Yuuri felt like ripping the pipes of the shower from the aquamarine tile walls and burning down his room. He had no idea how to work them. They weren't labeled. They didn’t change in temperature quickly enough for him to tell. Quite honestly, it probably annoyed him most because all Yuuri wanted was a hot shower. The fact that after such a long and arduous trip _shower handles_ were stopping him from giving himself such a tiny pleasure _really_ ticked him off. That, unfortunately, led to every little detail of the atmosphere to make him irrationally angry. For example, the toilet, sink, tub, walls, floor, and bathroom decorations were all the same ugly seafoam green. He didn’t understand that one bit! 

But it was a bathroom nonetheless, in a nice room with warm food waiting for him down in the kitchen once he was nice and clean. He couldn’t complain. 

Yuuri had been with Phichit for some time already. Time eluded him, moving far too quickly for him to process his stay well. Of course, he knew how he passed the time-- gossiping and drinking and smoking and attending late afternoon parties in Phichit’s home. There was no end to the leisure and happiness at his rich during his stay at the Chulanont Estate. 

He turned one of the handles to just the right degree and relished in warm water. He filled it to the brim and waited, stripping slowly and tenderly, trying to enjoy every moment of his bath from start to finish. An array of bath oils rested on a shelf near the sink- placed there by Phichit -awaiting his use. He scanned the labels and landed on one he liked. 

_Lavender and Honey_. 

He added the oils in and stepped into the blue-green tub. His body felt itself reach a level of comfort and relaxation he hadn’t felt in years. He soaked for what felt like hours until the water ran cold and he was forced to get up and dry himself. It was a short-lived pleasure, but a pleasure nonetheless. He hadn’t enjoyed a bath in weeks, showering when and where he could during his trip west. Even if he had been with Phichit for some time, he had only taken showers until then.

He didn’t bother to put on clothes, opting instead for a silk robe hung behind the bathroom door. It was much like the one he had seen Phichit wearing, except for the white lilies on the sleeves and hem against a pretty red background. He melted into the material, soft skin against the most luxurious of materials creating a wonderland around him. Looking at himself in the mirror, Yuuri was satisfied with his appearance-- clean and neat and ready for the night. 

Upon entering his room, he found a new box of cigarettes resting on his bedside table. He smiled, thanking the heavens for giving him a friend like Phichit. He took one from the box and searched for his lighter before he made his way to the balcony in his room. From there he could see the rest of the neighborhood clearly under the bright orange glow of the sun hiding behind the hills before him. He lit the cigarette and took a long and heavy drag, blowing it out with an ease about it. Looking out, he thought about his mother and how much she would have loved to see the same thing as he was. Then the nagging voice in the back of his head told him to call her-- to explain and go back and be happy with them-- 

He brushed those thoughts aside, starting to feel tears in his eyes. Yuuri bowed his head to the sun, reverting back to the way he had been in Baltimore. Sad and scared to think too much. Shy of the future and what it meant to him. 

A whistle came to him from below, loud and clear as sure as the sunset. He peered down at the ground below him, where Victor was standing with waving with a large poodle on a leash. Yuuri rolled his eyes, going back to his room and out into the hall, where he walked to Phichit's. It was so obvious what Victor was trying to do. Yuuri wouldn’t fall victim to it. 

With a light knock on his door, Yuuri called in, “Victor’s here. You should go greet him.” 

There was a hurried shuffling on the other side of the door, a couple of sighs, and finally a response. 

 

“We both know who he’s here for,” Phichit called. He opened the door, in the middle of trying his robe. “And it’s not me. Just send him on his way, or entertain him. You don’t have to do more than that.” He leaned against the frame and smiled fondly. “Yuuri, you came here to have fun. Victor is fun. Have him--” Phichit stopped himself upon looking at Yuuri’s face. “For tea! Or a coke! Enjoy his company. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my boyfriend.” Before Phichit closed his door, a knock came from downstairs. Yuuri shut his eyes. Phichit laughed, “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

And with that, Phichit was gone-- vanished into his room again. 

He hesitantly made his way downstairs, not bothering to change into regular clothes. He knew Victor wouldn’t be there longer than he needed to. He traveled down the tile stairs and into the foyer, bracing himself for what would surely be an awkward greeting between them. It was times like these that Yuuri rejoiced in the fact that all of the other people staying with Phichit were exploring the city. He opened the door. 

“Hi,” Victor beamed, smiling at him with the kind of dazzling white teeth Yuuri only ever saw in magazines. “How are you?” 

He’d been over for a couple of Phichit’s get-togethers in the past week. On more than one occasion, either Yuuri or Phichit would catch him looking in his direction, unwilling to break eye contact even when he saw them looking back.

“I’m okay, and yourself?” Yuuri responded, leaning against the door, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. 

“I’m wonderful.” The dog-- his dog, most likely-- barked behind him. Yuuri looked him up and down momentarily, from his white button up top to his red short-shorts and white loafers, scrunching his nose indecisively. “Is Phichit home?” 

That wasn’t what Yuuri had been expecting him to say. It was like he braked too hard, slamming his foot on the pedal. He looked at Victor, surprised this time and slowly nodded, trying to come to his senses. “Um, yeah, he’s upstairs. I’ll go get him for you. You can have a seat in the living room if you like.” 

“That would be lovely, thank you.” 

Yuuri led him into the living room and waited until Victor was sitting to leave the room. Once he settled, he walked away, looking back only when Victor spoke. 

“That’s a beautiful robe, by the way. Red suits you,” he said, winking at him. Yuuri rolled his eyes and stomped upstairs. 

Marching up to Phichit’s door once more, he knocked three times, each harder than the one before. Two groans could be heard from behind the door, then shuffling, and finally the clicking of the lock. This time, it was Seung Gil, sweaty and pink like he’d just been for a run. 

“He wants to see Phichit. I’ll be in my room if you need me,” he told him. Seung Gil sighed and closed the door again. Yuuri wrapped himself in his arms and walked back to his room. Victor didn’t need him to wait with him downstairs-- his job was done the second he told Seung Gil. 

Once inside his room, he went back onto his balcony and started on his cigarette again. The sun was almost gone, blue mixing with orange like milk in his morning tea. Voices from downstairs drifted into his room, muffled and abandoned. He took in a deep breath and rested his forehead against the palm of his hand. He had to fill the empty spaces in his head. Music couldn’t be forced and he didn’t have his painting supplies. The only thing he had left was dance, and he doubted Phichit had a room big enough for him to do it. Although… 

He decided to wait and ask. It would make sense that Phichit would know where a dance studio might be or even have a private area for himself somewhere in his home. He met Yuuri when he took his dance class after all. It was one of their shared passions. 

There was a long period where Phichit and Victor were just laughing together, followed by a more serious conversation that Yuuri could not even begin to make out. He decided it would be some time until Phichit was free again, so he dressed in his pajamas and waited until there was silence, and the soft creaking of the front door closing. That was when he made his walk downstairs. 

“Hey, I was wondering if you knew a dance studio near--” Yuuri spoke as he turned from the foyer to enter the living room. He stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of an all too familiar silver head of hair. “Oh. Is Phichit not here?” 

Victor smiled, “No, uh, he stepped out to get something from his car. You’re looking for a dance studio?” He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his thighs. 

Yuuri felt naked, oddly enough. Completely exposed to his gaze and inspection. 

“I am. Do you know one?” 

He wasn’t planning on backing down. Yuuri had met plenty of men like Victor, and pretty blue eyes and an accent weren’t enough to set him apart from the rest of them. If anything it made Yuuri be more cautious in their interactions. 

“Depends on what you’re looking for.” Victor stood up from his place and walked to Yuuri, stopping only inches from his body. The air was thick-- heavy with sweetness and tension. Yuuri felt like he would choke. Victor smiled with an innocent twinge to his lips, lowering his head slightly and speaking to him face to face. “What _are_ you looking for?” 

Yuuri looked past him, still and hardly breathing. The door opened behind them and just like that they separated. Phichit bounced in, completely unaware of what he had walked in on, with notebook and pencil in hand. Victor changed completely, back to a more appropriate distance away from Yuuri. He looked past him and smiled at Phichit, who had a pained look on his face, finally realizing what he had interrupted. Yuuri on the other hand, looked stoic as he stood there, cheeks only slightly pink. 

“I’ve got the notebook,” Phichit said, waving it in the air. He walked over and placed it in Victor’s hand. “Hopefully you can find the lyrics you were looking for.” 

“I’m sure I will,” Victor said. All three of them exchanged looks. Yuuri still couldn’t get himself to move or speak or even leave. His head was too foggy and tired. “I’ll uh, be leaving then. Oh, and Yuuri, my friend Chris owns a little dance studio in downtown Hollywood if you want a good studio.” Yuuri snapped out of his trance and looked at Victor, who looked at Phichit. “You still have his information, right?” 

“Yeah,” Phichit told him. “It’s somewhere in my address book. I could give it to you no problem,” he said to Yuuri. 

They stood in silence after that, until Victor picked up his dog's leash and tried to scoot past them and to the door, saying goodbye in the process. Phichit stopped him, taking grabbing his elbow and pulling him back. 

“Victor, it’s dark, I don’t want you walking out there all alone. Let me drive you--” Phichit stopped, placing a finger on his lips like he’d remembered something. “Oh no, I have to get back upstairs actually. Yuuri, why don’t you drive Victor home instead?” Yuuri looked at him, aghast that his own friend was playing him in that way. “Come on, you’re completely capable of driving him home. Be a good samaritan.” He pat Yuuri’s cheek and kissed Victor goodbye before skipping back upstairs, oversized shirt billowing in the wind. 

Yuuri watched him until he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway upstairs. Victor cleared his throat next to him, asking for his attention once more. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, Yuuri. I can walk home alone,” he said, looking sheepish for the first time since Yuuri met him. 

“Call it east coast hospitality, but I can’t just let you do that. Not when it's this dark, anyway. Come on,” he said leading the way to the garage. “Let’s go to the car."  
___________

The ride home was quiet and almost restless. Even before Victor could say anything Yuuri knew what would happen. 

Victor would say thank you for the ride, invite him in for a drink as a token for his appreciation, charm him like no tomorrow as they sipped on wine and ate cheese on crackers. He'd take him to bed— passionately and lovingly and better than Yuuri had ever known. They would sweat the night away in his bedroom from morning to night, gasping for air every time they allowed themselves to separate their lips from each other. They’d wake up the next morning, with the sun coming in through Victor’s window— bright and marvelous against a blue background. It would happen once, and then they would part. 

Yuuri could see it all happening. He was sure it would-- they had that kind of tension between them, and he was sure Victor felt it too. He rounded a corner and came face to face with a two-story, white house with brick red shingles and a navy blue door. At the front of the house were six, different plants of split leaf philodendron accompanied by multiple red rose bushes and small lights, illuminating the stone passages leading to the front door, up steps, and to the backyard. It was a modest home-- elegant and sweet, almost meant for a family. 

He turned into the driveway and waited for Victor to initiate what Yuuri had pictured in his head. But he never did.  
Instead, Victor thanked him and did something Yuuri hadn’t expected, taking his hand in his graciously and kissing his knuckles. 

“Thank you for the ride,” he said. “I appreciate it. Makkachin does too.” The dog barked in the back at the mention of his name. Under the glow of the street lamps, Victor looked less intense-- more demure. Gentle. Yuuri wasn't sure what to expect from him anymore. Every time he thought he knew Victor's next move, he was proved wrong. There was no telling what Victor would do. “Um… I’m having a show in Beverly Hills this weekend. Phichit is coming and I’d really like it if you did too. For the culture, of course.” He winked then and Yuuri couldn’t help but blush a slight shade of pink. “It should be fun, so…” 

Yuuri nodded, “Yeah, I’ll uh… I’ll try to make it.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you Saturday then.” 

Victor beamed at him then, clasping their hands together one final time, then getting out of the car with Makkachin behind him. He half jogged up the steps and waved at Yuuri from his front door, before disappearing with Makkachin inside.  
He felt butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach and stomped them out immediately. There was a danger in developing any kind of feelings for someone else for him now. He wasn’t in a place to do it as freely as he wanted-- even if it was someone like Victor, who most likely wasn’t looking for anything serious anyway... Passivity did not deny passion. Yuuri had to remind himself of that. Regardless, something changed in him that night. The world felt lighter somehow-- more breathable. Easy. It was like he could finally relax, letting go of some of the tension he felt through something as silly as a flimsy, passing romance. 

He drove home humming along to the songs on the radio, thinking of the past and present. How much his life had changed in just days. Never in a million years did he picture himself in a place like Laurel Canyon. The twists and turns of life never ceased to surprise him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took sooooo long to post but here it is, finally. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated :)!


	3. No Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He listened as Victor kept playing, each note a song of its own.  
>  There was so much beauty around him.   
> So much, he didn’t know what to do with it.   
> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who has finals but wrote this anyway (its me)

Saturday came faster than Yuuri would have wanted. Before he knew it, he was standing with Phichit in front of a hotel downtown, between the hills and the city, covered almost by nature. Bright white walls and rustic Spanish detailing gave the feel of a grand, beautiful night waiting for him. Even the people around him moved as if not to distract him from admiring the beauty that surrounded him. It was as if they knew he wouldn’t be there too long. Not enough to take it for granted like they did.

It was a painting— the scene— as he watched the sun sink into the horizon behind the building. It cast a pink filter over everything, making it feel more like a dream than reality. He was to inspect and admire the things in front of him— but never touch. Yuuri knew that if he got too close to the glitz and glamour of Hollywood life, leaving would be unbearable for him. 

Phichit tugged at his sleeve, hooking an arm around his waist and guiding him up the steps of the hotel and indoors, where the party was already in full swing. Stars and the rich mixed with musicians and others lucky enough to be invited— people like Yuuri. 

A passerby. 

He tried to shake himself out of the mood he was in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a nearby refreshment table. 

“So when is Victor playing?” he asked Phichit, who was much more well informed than he. 

“Probably until the end,” Phichit said. “I think they’ll play most of the album over speakers in between the instrumentals, and then have him perform the single at the end.” 

“What album?” 

“His.” 

Yuuri stopped drinking and looked at his friend, confused. “His album?” 

“Yeah, he signed with Columbia last year and it’s being released tonight,” Phichit explained. “What did you think this was?” 

Yuuri looked around the room more closely, and sure enough, there they were. Studio executives and CEOs painted in between people like wolves in sheep's clothing. Watching them with their wives and mistresses, he felt incredibly underdressed. Like a nuisance, almost. It made him break out into hives. 

“I… don’t know. I think I need--” 

“Yuuri!” Victor called from behind him. “Phichit! I’m so glad you both could make it.” He walked up behind Yuuri and placed a hand on his shoulder, extending the other to Phichit. Victor looked just as expensive as the rest of them-- silver hair coiffed neatly, dressed in a black flowy top with the top three buttons under and bell bottom black and white striped pants. It was like something from a Vogue editorial. “How are you finding the party?” 

“It’s beautiful. You couldn’t have chosen a more perfect location…” Phichit started. They held a conversation, seamlessly, about light fixtures and ornaments and wallpaper, all the while Yuuri tried to stay as still and relaxed as possible. He was extremely aware of the fact that Victor still had his hand on him, warm and electric. 

“What about you, Yuuri?” he asked, squeezing his shoulder a bit before taking his hand off him. 

“Hm?” Yuuri asked, snapping back to reality. 

“What would you be doing if you weren’t here right now?” 

“In my room,” he said simply. “Sleeping most likely. Probably playing with Phichit’s hamsters.” 

Phichit laughed, “No, we mean if you weren’t here in Hollywood. What would you be doing?” 

“Um,” Yuuri felt odd then, unsure of what to say. 

What _would_ he be doing? Not much, likely. Feeling extremely pathetic and depressed, undeniably. But he couldn’t say that. That wasn’t something people just laid out there in the middle of an album release party. So he had to think: What would Yuuri Katsuki be doing if he weren’t in the golden state? 

“Dancing, most likely. Or teaching ballet, again. One of those.” 

He thought that would be enough to appease them, but it just brought on a new set of questions from Victor, who couldn’t help but keep his eyes on him through every word that came out of his mouth. Yuuri tried to answer his questions as curtly as possible, dodging any attempts by him to try and find out more about Yuuri than was needed. Phichit watched on, amused and giggling, tipsy on three flutes of champagne already. Yuuri wanted to be tipsy too-- to share in that bliss and hide his shame. 

Phichit was pulled away from their small party of three by another group that passed by them. They knew him from college or something-- Yuuri didn’t know. His ears were full of cotton and he could barely make out what Victor, who was much too close to him, was saying. 

“So,” Victor said once Phichit was gone. Yuuri, despite wanting to run after Phichit, made an effort to listen closely to what he was saying. “Why don’t you like me?” 

Yuuri was taken aback. Of course, it was an act. He had purposefully been sending Victor those signals since he first met up with him after he arrived. Dry-mouthed, a result of being called out, he asked, “What? What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Victor said, bashfully-- ha!-- leaning off to the side like he was suddenly mortified for having brought it up. “After I dropped you off-- I mean, it’s not that I expected anything to happen but-- I guess… I guess I thought you and I would… be something…” Yuuri swallowed, hard, suddenly aware that maybe-- just maybe-- Victor was being sincere. “Like, I’d take you on a date and… you know.” He rubbed the nape of his neck, which turned a bright red color, and couldn’t keep his eyes off the floor. Yuuri wanted to reach out to him. 

Almost. 

“I’m… not… uh,” Yuuri couldn’t find the words. They all seemed too cruel. He groaned. “I’m not looking for anything serious... not going to be here long enough to even think about it. There’s no point.” 

Victor stood a little straighter. “Well… it doesn’t have to be--” 

“You’re a lover,” Yuuri said, opening the floodgates. “I can see it in your eyes. It may not be serious, but it’ll be passionate and I’ll leave and you’ll get hurt.” Victor opened his mouth to say something but Yuuri finished speaking. “You’ll be hurt and I’ll be gone and I can’t… do that.” It was a damn good excuse-- mostly since it was true. He played with his shirt sleeve and pressed his lips together. 

“I can’t believe you’ve looked past my cold and blase exterior and broke me down to my most basic and vulnerable state,” Victor said. Yuuri blinked, confused at first, then laughed. It was a joke. Just a joke. Hopefully. 

They chuckled nervously at each other, then broke into full-on panicked laughter. They made it weird. 

Finally, Victor said, “You make it look easy.” 

Yuuri tilted his head, “What?” 

“Explaining your feelings. There are no games with you,” Victor said. “I like it. Which is a bad move on your part, to be honest? It’d be easier to get over you if you weren’t so nice.” 

A man in a pressed and primed black suit approached Victor, whispering into his ear while looking at Yuuri cautiously. He left without a word to him after speaking to Victor. 

“Um, I guess I have to mingle with… other people.” Victor half chuckled. “You’ll stick around, right?” 

Yuuri nodded hesitantly. “Sure will,” he said. With that, Victor left with a smile a mile wide on his face. 

The air between them had cleared a bit. That was good, Yuuri thought, for more reasons than one. Maybe his trip would go the way he planned after all. No distractions. No romance. No anything-- just fun in the sun and leisure. He took a flute of champagne from a table nearby and walked off into the crowd to distract himself, introducing himself to others and mingling like he hadn’t a problem in the world. He blended in no problem-- lying to himself and everyone else. Acting like he had money. Acting like everything was alright. 

That was the thing about Yuuri. He was almost _too good_ at pretending to be someone he wasn’t. It wasn’t a big deal for him to slip into someone else’s attitude, to become what everyone else needed. It was the kind of person he was, and there wasn’t much he could do to change that. 

So he drank and he danced and he flirted with men in suits until his face felt like it was burning, heat rising to his cheeks like foam on a beer. That’s when he slipped out of the room and into a bathroom, where he stared at himself in the mirror, stuck in a somewhat drunken fever of self-loathing and anger. How easy his mood was to change with the times, the setting, the people around him. Even in the absence of them. 

Somewhere deep inside him, Yuuri knew running was wrong. He knew he couldn’t escape, in the end, he would be seized. Caught. Brought back to reality. He’d meet his tragic end with no peace or resolution. There was nothing that could stop him from crying then. He sat on the bathroom floor, door locked, and cried and cried until his heart grew somber and tired. Until there was no raucous-- no storm-- inside him anymore. That was when he cleaned himself up and emerged again, looking only slightly disheveled. Nothing had changed outside. He hadn’t expected it to. That was a comfort to him. 

He walked into the main room, greeted with the lovely surprise of Victor on stage, sitting in front of a piano, singing his heart out. It was a beautiful song, about loneliness and longing. The words slipped out of his mouth, silver, and chiming like the moon. Yuuri found Phichit and sunk himself into the seat next to him, resting his head on his shoulder. Phichit took hold of his hand and squeezed it, aware of the burden Yuuri was carrying, but not sure of what it was. Yuuri wasn’t really sure either, anymore. 

He listened as Victor kept playing, each note a song of its own.   
There was so much beauty around him.   
So much, he didn’t have the slightest idea of what to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Validate me and leave a comment :D!


	4. a culmination of things left unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There was a magnetism about the hills and nature of the area that kept him there. The attraction was the kind to strip him of his worries and sadness. That was Yuuri’s take on it. Whenever he was alone, sitting among the trees, he felt at peace. Like he was on his own private heaven._

The day after the party, Yuuri made the decision to stay in Laurel Canyon for a couple more weeks. To say it was an indefinite stay would be a lie— he would leave someday, it just wasn’t clear when. He felt at peace in the hills, with his friends and strangers, all collectively searching for themselves through their art. It was something special Yuuri couldn’t very well phrase. The energy around him was magical. Ecstatic. But there was more to his decision than that. 

There was something keeping him in Laurel Canyon. 

Love was too strong of a word. Endearment, maybe. Interest definitely. There was a magnetism about the hills and nature of the area that kept him there. The attraction was the kind to strip him of his worries and sadness. That was Yuuri’s take on it. Whenever he was alone, sitting among the trees, he felt at peace. Like he was on his own private heaven. 

Maybe it was more than magnetism. 

“Yuuri,” Phichit called from behind his room door with a knock. Yuuri groaned from his place on his bed. 

It had been hours since the sun had risen and he had yet to force himself up from bed. He didn’t know why-- well, in a sense, he did-- but he had no idea why his mood was so terrible. Plenty of bad things had happened to him in the past, and he’d barely bat an eyelash. But that particular morning, he couldn’t stop thinking. He was running around in circles in his mind. Over and over the same thought. 

Phichit knocked again, “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah,” Yuuri answered as he sat up. Phichit peaked his head in and smiled, offering him a cup of coffee. Yuuri nodded and smiled back. He needed to keep up appearances, not just for his sake but for that of everyone. No one needed to see him down. 

“So… why haven’t you gotten up?” Phichit asked. He picked up a shirt from the foot of his bed and tossed it to him. 

“I did, initially. I got my pants on.” He pulled the duvet covering his lower half away and exposed the unbuttoned tan chinos he managed to get on. “But then I sat down and… the rest is history.” 

Phichit sat down and looked at him, turning his head to the side. Yuuri pursed his lips and turned his attention elsewhere. Phichit smacked his lips. “Listen, you know I don’t mind you staying here-- and you’re welcome to stay as long as you need-- but I just… I guess I wanted to know why you finally decided to come visit.” 

Yuuri put on the shirt Phichit had tossed him. “Well, you’d been asking me to come visit for a long time, so I came. Plus it was easy to make it my first stop on the trip I’m taking. That’s it, really.” 

“But-- I mean, I guess I want to know is why you’re on this trip anyway. It’s really unlike you--” 

“Phichit.” Yuuri took his hand and looked into his eyes. “I just wanted to get away. That’s all. And the fact that it’s unlike me is precisely why I’m here. I don’t want to waste the rest of my life away being some overly cautious coward.” He took a sip from the coffee Phichit brought him and got up, walking over to where he kept his shoes. 

“Yuuri, you’re sister called this morning.” 

He stopped dead in his tracks and calculated what he would do once he turned back to face Phichit. After only two seconds, Yuuri turned back with a kind expression and shoes in hand. 

“Oh yeah? What did she want?” 

Phichit watched him as he sat back down and proceeded to put his shoes on. 

“Well, she asked if you were here-- or knew _where_ you were. Yuuri, she sounded really worried--” 

“I’ll make sure to call her back,” he said patting Phichit’s hand. He looked at him for a bit and then said, “Did you… what did you tell her?” 

“I pretended I couldn’t hear what she was saying and that the call was breaking up-- Yuuri, it felt awful. She’s practically my own sister too. You’ve been keeping up with them right? She made it sound like you’d gone missing--” 

“Obviously I have. You know how protective they are. But I’ll admit, it’s been a while since I last checked in.” Phichit looked more at ease, but still a little disturbed. Almost like he knew something was up. Yuuri bit his bottom lip and sighed. “I’m sorry you had to lie. Next time she calls, just wake me up and I’ll have a chat with her.” That was all it took to get Phichit to smile again. 

“Okay,” he said. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, how about we go dancing?”   
___

The day was hot. The kind of unbearable, dry, begging heat that hit the eyes and made you squint. The sun was Yuuri’s enemy, after years and years of being a close friend. They raced down the streets in Phichit’s car, wind in his hair and thrill in his spirit, sporting black sunglasses and a cigarette in his mouth. 

It was the kind of reckless and dangerous thing that he would have terrified him in the past, but over the course of three months or so, he’d grown to appreciate the turning points of adrenaline in his stomach. Every twist and turn made him realize that maybe he should have lived his life that way from the beginning. 

He should have been living in California years ago. 

It wasn’t a long drive to Phichit’s friend's studio. It almost went by too quickly for him. Once they hit the main roads, Phichit had to slow down or risk being pulled over, which ruined the entire rhythm of the drive down, but not a minute too soon. They were only in the car for a couple of minutes after that. 

Chris’ studio was nestled between a bakery and sporting good store, something Yuuri felt was both good and bad for business. There were plenty of people walking up and down the street with bags and bags in their hands. They had funny expressions on their faces too. It was as if they were present, but not at all at the same time. Yuuri couldn’t look away from them. 

They got out and made their way into the studio. It was unusually quiet inside. Idle and lonely. There wasn’t a soul around, despite it being the middle of the day, a thought Yuuri pointed out to Phichit. 

“Oh, well, Chris teaches three classes in the morning and five in the afternoon. It’s usually empty here during the middle of the day. Which is why we’re here.” 

Yuuri hummed and followed Phichit down the hall, where a room was labeled with their last names. 

Stepping inside felt wonderful. It was like Yuuri was coming home after a long time away, finally ready to get back into the way of things.

They changed right there in the studio and started with their stretches, taking as long as needed to get their bodies ready for what was to come. It had been a long time for both of them since they had last danced seriously. Yuuri was itching to throw himself back into the art, so it was no surprise to either him or Phichit that he was the first one up and about, moving without any real purpose at first. 

Phichit tried to keep up-- to bond and have fun with him. But there was something in Yuuri’s eyes. Something like fire. After thirty minutes, he just sat back and watched him as he danced in silence. Yuuri was lost in his own world-- eyes laser-focused on his reflection in the mirror--, and Phichit was lost in his motions. It was always like that-- watching Yuuri dance. You couldn’t look away. Not for a moment. 

It was like watching the ocean through a storm. The violence and beauty set everything in motion. It was cataclysmic. Enticing. Its benevolence entrapped you. 

It was no surprise neither of them noticed the door open. 

Yuuri had finished dancing when the loud clapping behind them nearly scared them half to death. Standing at the entrance was Chris. 

“Wow! That was absolutely beautiful!” Chris said as he continued to clap. He leaned against the door frame and smiled, peering at Yuuri’s body, face still turned away from both he and Phichit. Chris took a step in but stopped himself. Inside, Yuuri’s shoulders began to shake. His hands flew up to cover his face as a sob escaped his lips. Phichit was up and next to him in a matter of seconds, arms around him and voice tender, asking if he was okay. 

“Yeah,” Yuuri whispered, wiping away his tears. “I-- I’m okay.” He gave Phichit a worn smile and turned to face Christ, letting out a forced chuckle. “Um, I’m really sorry this is how we’re meeting.” He walked towards him and shook his hand. “I’m Yuuri. You must be Chris?” 

“Yes, I am. Are you sure you’re alright? That was some heavy crying--” 

“I’m okay. I’m just really passionate about dancing. You understand, right?” Chris nodded. 

“It’s a beautiful gift you’ve got there, Yuuri. I think I would cry too.” They smiled at each other like nothing happened. “I’d love to watch you more, but I have a class coming in about twenty minutes. I’m afraid your time is up, sorry.” 

“It’s not a problem, thank you for letting us use the space.” 

Yuuri and Phichit changed and packed up in no time. They said their goodbyes and made their way back to the car and drove home. Yuuri knew Phichit wanted to ask what happened. He knew Phichit saw through his bullshit. But out of understanding, or respect for his boundaries, Phichit stayed quiet on the matter. 

When they reached his home, it seemed bigger. Lonelier. 

Some of the magic he had felt in weeks past was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really hoping the dancing comes through the way I meant it to. I don't know much about technicalities but I have watched ballet... so... yeah. Idk. Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think.


End file.
